


She Never Wore Red Again

by PennanInque



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, I'm so sorry, Red Riding Hood AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennanInque/pseuds/PennanInque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red attracts black. Blue attracts green. Fangs attract blood. Smiles attract friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Never Wore Red Again

She pulled on her red hood and left.

They warned her countless times.

Her father scolded her. Her mother begged. Alya thought she was crazy. They all said the same thing.

The forest is a dangerous place.

But Marinette was not one to be frightened by wind in leaves and birds in bushes.

She’d been through the woods dozens of times without incident.

It was the fastest way to her grandmother’s house and there was no way she was taking the five-hour riverside mud trap of a road when she could just as easily trek through moss and branches in half the time.

She’d never even so much as a hair of the wolves they cautioned her against. All she saw was colourful flora and peaceful fauna. The flowers and squirrels were a nice break from her long days in the bakery, and no rumor of wild dogs was going to take her weekly reprieve away from her.

Marinette stepped carefully over a fallen log, moving towards the three trees tangled together on her left. The bark on the largest section of trunk bore the circle she had carved months ago as a marker. She’d mapped out the clearest direct route to Granny’s house a while ago in case she ever got lost. Marinette was one that tended to wander in the beauty of the forest. It was wise to have trail of breadcrumbs to lead her back on her way.

She continued on her path, following her dots through the woods, stopping every here and there to pick a few flowers. Azaleas were her grandmother’s favorite, but they didn’t grow in the village or by her cottage. Marinette kept a few jewelweeds for herself and picked some pussy willow branches to accent them in a vase.

When she came upon the mark she left on a cracked oak tree, she heard the bubbling laughter of the stream. With a grin on her face, she detoured to the right.

The stream was a typical rest-stop for Marinette. Not only was the sound of flowing water a personal favourite of hers, the water came from a freshwater spring. She tended to stop by, have a drink, and listen to the sounds of the forest for a moment or two before moving on.

Her choice to do so today allowed him to make his move.

Marinette crept to the side of the stream and eased herself into a sitting position. She dipped her hands in the running water, swirling her fingers around to play with the cool texture before cupping her hand. She took a few sips of the stream, crouching low so all the water didn’t drain through her fingers.

It was then that she saw him.

Semi-hidden in the leaves of the overhanging maple tree, she could make out his pitch black coat in the reflection of the slow-running water, tail swishing lazily under him.

She snapped upright and blatantly stared at the creature in the tree.

He was staring back.

Marinette froze. She’d never actually seen a wolf before, but this creature was just a large and menacing as the stories the townsfolk told. It was lithe but muscular, claws poking out of its enormous paws. She’d never seen a beast more intimidating in her life. Any moment she was sure it would pounce upon her and tear her to shreds.

But he didn’t pounce.

He smirked.

Languidly, the wolf let himself down from the branches until his back paws landed in the grass. He stood on two legs, tail twitching idly behind him, ears perked and attentive. A tooth peeked out from that smirk of his. Astonishingly, his hair was blonde, a stark contrast to the black fur and emerald eyes.

Oh, those eyes were dangerous.

But Marinette could handle danger.

“What do we have, here?” The wolf purred. “A little lady lost in the woods?”

“I’m not lost,” Marinette said, getting to her feet. “I’m on my way to my grandmother’s house.”

He crept closer, tail swinging. “By yourself?”

“Yes,” she replied, brow furrowing.

“These woods are dangerous, you know,” the wolf said with a Cheshire grin. “It’s not safe for women to be in the forest alone.”

Marinette folded her arms and huffed. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” he said, coming nearer still. “But beautiful ladies such as yourself are especially targeted by predators out here. Perhaps I should accompany you on your journey.” He flashed a smile. “Keep the bad guys away.”

She scoffed. “I only see one bag guy at the moment.”

He laughed. “Little ol’ me? Oh, Princess, you have no idea what lies in these woods. I’m one of the  _good_  guys. I’ve been keeping you safe.”

“Sure you have.”

His lip curled up. “Ever wonder why you’ve never seen any wolves until now?”

She frowned. “I’m careful.”

He barked out another laugh. “Little lady, you are a walking meal with loud feet. Everyone in the forest knows the moment you enter the woods.” He smirked at her cape. “The hood doesn’t help.”

“My hood?”

“You might as well hold a bullseye in front of you, Princess,” he snickered. “Red is an irresistible colour out here. It’s how I found you in the first place.”

“What are you talking about,” Marinette said, indignantly.

“Crimson is hardly a camouflaging colour. You’re very easy to spot. I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

He grinned. “You’re interesting.”

She clutched her basket tightly in her hand, eying the hunting knife she kept inside for emergencies before looking up at the wolf. His body language was casual, maybe she wouldn’t need it.

A question niggled at her. “Do you really keep the other wolves away from me?”

He held her gaze and grinned. She raised an eyebrow. He slid his glance to her basket. “Those are lovely flowers.”

Her brow creased. “I picked them for my granny.”

“Not all of them,” he said, reaching out and plucking a jewelweed from her bouquet. “These are for you, aren’t they?”

Marinette found no voice as the wolf outstretched a paw, pushed her hair behind her ear, and tucked the flower into place. Both his hand and his gaze lingered on her face as a gentle white smile spread across his mouth.

“A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady. I especially like the spots.” He dragged a finger over her cheek. “They compliment your freckles.”

Her breath hitched.

He was too close.

Her fingers found the hilt of her knife.

But she hesitated.

He was still staring at her, those emerald eyes glinting with mischief, with danger, with… something softer. He wasn’t looking at her like she was his next meal. He was looking at her like she was something to cherish.

Even so…

“It’s called jewelweed,” she said evenly. “But it is commonly called something else.”

The wolf hummed. “And what would that be?”

“Touch-me-not.”

And with that, she pulled away and strode back to her trail.

She expected him to follow, but all she heard behind her was the hearty peel of his laughter.

* * *

She saw him again a week later.

He was waiting for her by the cracked oak, leaning nonchalantly against the bark. He offered her a snaggletooth grin. “We meet again.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re following me.”

He stepped in her way. “The closer I am to you, the better.”

“That’s not creepy or anything.”

“The pack respects me. They won’t go near you if I’m around.”

She glanced at him. “What makes you so special?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Interested in me now?”

“Just trying to decide if my stalker is dangerous or not,” she said, weaving around him too trek up the slope of the hill.

“I’m the lesser of two evils, trust me.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” she asked over her shoulder. “There could be nothing to worry about in this forest except you.”

He stopped in his tracks and leveled her with a grim stare. “In these woods, anything bigger than the rodents want to eat you, Princess.”

She sputtered. “But how do I—”

“Whether you believe me or not doesn’t change the fact that you’re nothing more than food to half the beasts in this forest,” he said. “That little knife in your basket will not fight off a wolf pack or a bear or a bobcat…”

Marinette paled and realized she had been embarrassingly naïve. Of course her small hunting knife would do little to protect her if some creature ever decided to make a snack of her. She’d just assumed from the quiet of her forest walks that the woods were near empty. If he was telling the truth…

“Why do you help me?” she asked, eyes searching his.

He gave her the same smile from when he put the flower in her hair. “You’re brave.”

* * *

It became routine to meet at the oak.

That day he was lying on an overhanging branch. His tail mused her hair as she walked by.

“When am I going to meet your grandmother?” he asked.

She snorted. “Oh yeah, that’d go well.”

He smirked. “She wouldn’t be grateful to meet the man protecting her granddaughter?”

“Not when he’s a wolf,” she said, sliding him a look. “I’m still not convinced you don’t want to eat me.”

“That’s because I do want to eat you.”

She whirled to face him, her eyes wide.

He grinned. “I never said I didn’t.”

“You’ve been lying to me?”

“Of course not,” he said, dropping down from the tree. “I’ve only ever told you the truth, little lady.”

“You want to  _eat_  me!”

“But I won’t. Why would I protect you only to devour you?”

“I don’t know!” she cried. “To keep me for yourself? So you don’t have to share?”

There was a gleam in his eye at that. “I am a wolf, Princess. I like to eat. But I will not eat a friend.”

She paused. “A friend?”

“Yes,” he smiled.

Marinette’s cheeks pinked. She stammered. “I… you…”

He chuckled. “You may not consider me a friend, little lady, but to me, you are very precious.”

“You don’t even know my name,” she said. “How could you care about me so much?”

“I am a good judge of character.”

She considered him. Tall, fierce, and menacing, claws that could rip her skin, teeth that could tear. He was the perfect picture of fear. But she wasn’t afraid. He had had plenty of opportunities to eat her if he wanted. He’d already pointed out how defenseless she was. He’d done nothing to hurt her, hadn’t so much as scratched her. The flirting and the sideways glances had given her pause in the beginning, but he kept his distance. For a creature so threatening, the wolf had been considerate, caring, and gentle.

The corner of her mouth quirked.

“So am I,” she said. “My name is Marinette.”

There was that flower smile again. “Adrien.”

* * *

He brought her apples today.

They seemed harmless enough, so when Adrien took a bite, she did too.

Marinette sat against the oak tree while Adrien sprawled across the branch above. Bits of apple peel kept landing on her head.

“Would you stop that?” she said, in between bites.

“I’m not aiming for you, you know.”

“You’re still hitting me,” she argued. “What kind of wolf eats around the apple peel anyway?”

“I don’t like the texture,” he said, dropping another piece on her.

She flicked it back. “But you’ll eat small woodland creatures no problem.”

“It tastes weird, okay?”

“Picky.”

* * *

“Why aren’t you with your pack?” she asked suddenly while drawing in the dirt.

A twig snapped overhead. There was a moment of silence before Adrien finally answered. “My dad’s the alpha,” he said.

Marinette looked up at him. “So?”

“He’s kind of a jackass.”

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he hummed. “I’m better on my own, anyway.”

“Hey,” she said, tossing a pebble at him to get his attention. He looked down at her. She was smiling. “You’re not alone anymore, okay?”

He turns his gaze back to the sky so she can’t see his stupid grin. “Yeah.”

* * *

Marinette’s shoes and socks lay scattered beside her basket of flowers along the bed of the stream as she and the wolf sat with their feet in the water. The sun shone light-spots through the trees that danced over their skin and onto the forest floor. The breeze ruffled their hair and rustled the leaves. The birdsongs accompanied the woodland sounds and the trickling stream to create a peaceful symphony.

And it was promptly interrupted by Marinette’s shrill shriek.

“Adrien!”

He grinned innocently but his dripping paw proved his guilt.

She shook her wet bangs out of her face. “That’s not funny!”

“You looked hot,” he laughed. “I was cooling you down!”

A devious grin morphed her lips. “Well then maybe I should return the favor!”

She leaned down and flung water in his face.

The yowl that tore from his mouth was more cattish than wolf. He sent her an indignant look, his hair dangling over his eyes that flashed beneath. He gave an impish smirk. “Oh, it’s on.”

He cupped his hands and dumped a load of water over her head with lightning speed. She screeched out a gasp as the chilly water dribbled down her clothes. He laughed.

“That’s it,” she glowered, her smile betraying her. “You’re doing down!”

Adrien’s laugh was cut off as Marinette tackled him into the stream.

The water hit him like a cold shock, but the stream wasn’t deep enough to allow their heads to submerge, so he recovered quickly enough.

But not as quickly as Marinette. She was already sitting back on her heels, equally soaked as he was, grinning proudly.

He narrowed his eyes. “You little…”

This time it was Marinette’s laughter that was cut off as Adrien pounced on her. He knocked her back into the water, forcing a yelp from her as the cold jolted her system. His body was poised over hers, making sure she remained subdued, half-immersed in the stream.

Just as he was about to gloat, Marinette opened her eyes and took in a sharp breath. He hadn’t really realized how close they had been, but now, with her breath on his face and her eyes so close, he couldn’t help but take her in. The sunspots still flitted across her skin. There was a flush on her cheeks. Her lips were parted every so slightly.

The smile that took over his mouth wasn’t voluntary. He caught her eyes tracking it before they flicked back to his. He let out a breath.

“Thank you,” he said.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “For what?”

He didn’t give her an answer.

He had too many.

* * *

“I have a surprise for you,” he said one day.

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

He shook his head. “It’s a surprise. You have to wait and see.” He held out his hand and waited for her to take it. When she did without hesitation, he grinned. “Come with me.”

He kept in front of her most of the way, making her follow closely behind him as he led her through the trees and brambles. She tried to peek over his shoulder a few times to see where they were headed, but gave up after she got smacked in the face by a branch for not paying attention. He hit Adrien for laughing.

Finally, he stopped.

Marinette looked around but saw nothing but pines and ferns and logs. “What is—?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Close your eyes.”

“What? Adrien this—”

“Just close them.”

She hesitated, but eventually sighed and did as she was told. She began to protest when Adrien started walking again, tugging on her arm.

“Trust me,” he said.

He guided her over any bumps or dips in the ground, led her around tree trunks and over logs, smoothly giving her little instructions. His voice was even and had a nice timbre. It calmed her in her blindness.

When he stopped for a second time, she felt him move to her right. He stood beside her, still holding her hand, and said, “Okay.”

She opened her eyes eagerly and her jaw went slack.

In front of them, spanning the entirety of her peripherals, was a flower patch as large as the town-square back home. Wildflowers grew intermingled among each other, creating a rainbow mosaic that formed nothing but butterflies in Marinette’s stomach. The sight stole her breath away.

“Do you like it?” Adrien asked quietly, squeezing her hand.

She squeezed back. “I love it.”

* * *

They sat back to back in the small field of flowers, picking arrowheads and hepaticas and black-eyed Susans. Mallows and marigolds littered their hair. Marinette’s basket was full of azaleas.

Adrien reached behind him and placed a jewelweed in her ponytail.

She balanced a sprig of spring cress between his ears.

He picked some small blue flowers with one hand. His other braced his weight by her hip.

She brought a primrose to her nose. Her free hand rested on top of his and laced their fingers together.

They were lying down together, Adrien playing with Marinette’s hair and Marinette stroking his tail absentmindedly, when he bolted upright.

Marinette looked up. “What’s wrong?”

When he didn’t answer, she sat up. “Adrien, what’s going on?”

His ears twitched and his eyes didn’t stray from whatever he was looking at beyond the clearing. His tail flicked back and forth anxiously on the ground.

He stood. “Stay here.”

“What are you talking about?” she said. “What’s happening?”

He broke his stare to look down at her. His face relaxed as he took in her concerned expression and he knelt in front of her. His hands rested on her shoulders. “Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He began to lean in, eyes on her lips, before he stopped. Thinking twice, he raised his head and pecked her forehead before he disappeared into the dark of the forest.

* * *

Marinette ripped the petals off another daisy and added it to the flower graveyard beside her knee. The delicate victims of her unease piled up the longer Adrien was gone. She picked another flower, yanked the petals off, and threw the stem down with impatience.

What was taking him so long?

With a nod of finality, Marinette grabbed her hunting knife from her basket and got to her feet. She brushed off her pants, dusted her cloak and pulled up her red hood, and ventured into the forest to find her wolf.

She trudged through the woods, calling Adrien’s name. As time went on and she’d not so much as found a whisker of him, she tried to keep the panic out of her voice. She’d never felt more vulnerable or frightened without the sound of his footsteps next to her or the swish of his tail in the trees overhead. A sense of apprehension washed over her and she quickened her steps.

She had to find him.

“Adrien!” she called, stepping over a felled tree. “Adrien!”

Had a bird chirped at the same time, she would have missed the distant groan.

She flew through the woods in the direction of the sound. Her feet thudded on the moss and grass, twigs snapped, mud squished. She ran through any obstacle in her way, desperation driving her to run faster,  _faster._

She saw him in the distance, back leaning against the base of a large oak tree. His groan sped her feet.

She dropped when she was close to him and slid on her knees to his side. His eyebrows were cinched in pain, his hand clutched his torso, blood matted his fur and speckled his face.

Marinette’s heart dropped into her stomach to be digested. All warmth fled her. She was pale. She shook. Tears welled in her eyes. “Adrien,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

He cracked an eye open. “I told you to stay put.”

She reached toward him but didn’t know what to do. “What… What happened? Did the pack—?”

“No,” he said, weakly. “No, they didn’t do this. My dad is a jerk, but he wouldn’t let them kill me.”

“Then what—?”

He coughed and tried to hide the red that came with it. “A bear,” he said. “I heard it coming too late.”

She tried to wipe the blood off his face. “Why didn’t you run?”

He smiled feebly. “It would have gone after you.” He took her hand from her face to hold. “Bears don’t respect me much.”

“We both could have run!” she cried.

“It would have caught us,” he said. “This was the only way I could protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting!” she yelled, tears rolling down her face. “I need  _you!_ ”

He smiled and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “It won’t bother you. I made sure of that.”

Her breath shuddered. “We can still fix this. We can still fix you.”

“Marinette…”

“You’re going to be alright.”

“Marinette.”

She raised her head and met his gaze. There was a tear in his eyes and that smile on his face. “I’m really glad I met you.”

He pushed something into her hand. “For a beautiful lady,” he said and then lay still.

Marinette screamed out a wail and collapsed into him. She sobbed into his blood-caked fur, gripping him like she was holding his soul and keeping it there. She cradled his body in grief and wept, ugly tears drenching her face as he mourned her friend.

* * *

She stayed with him when she ran out of tears, her head on his leg and her hand grasping his. Her other fist was still full of whatever he had given her. She uncurled her fingers. She expected the red petals of jewelweed but was surprised when she found something else.

A small smile lifted the edges of her mouth as she looked at the small blue flowers.

Forget-me-nots.

 

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